A Simple Game of Drinking
by colordrifter
Summary: One day out of the blue, Thatch gets persuaded to challenge Marco to a drinking contest. Sadly, he doesn't know WHY the others did the persuading... A little fanfic about a few of our Division Commanders and lots of sake. Oneshot.


**This little plot bunny popped into my head, and I just **_**had**_** to write it down. I spent an hour writing this when I should've been doing homework, but ah well, it certainly wasn't a bad way to kill time.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece; Oda-sensei does!**

It was just another day on the _Moby Dick_. With all the chores done, the Whitebeard Pirates were lazing around enjoying the rare sunshine that the Grand Line had blessed them with. Marco sat in the crow's nest, gazing out into the ocean, sighing contentedly. On days like these, it was best to just sit and relax…

"OI! MARCO!"

_Right. Relax._ _Like that's going to happen._

Marco leaned over the edge and looked down. Thatch was standing on the deck waving at him, with Vista and Jozu right next to him. Sporting a wicked grin, he gave another shout. "Come down for a bit, will ya?"

Heaving another sigh at the prospect of losing his moment of peace, Marco jumped down from the crow's nest. "Need something, Thatch?"

"Kinda. Jozu and Vista here were just telling me how you had never gotten drunk before in your life."

"So?"

Thatch's grin widened. "I challenge you to a drinking contest."

Marco raised his eyebrows. "And the point of that would be…?"

"Well, I only see you take a bottle or two at parties, and you've never been drunk…" Thatch left his meaning hanging in the air. "I can handle a fair amount of sake myself, and I doubt that you can say the same. Besides, Jozu told me it would be over quick." At this, Vista gave a snicker.

"Huh." Marco shot a piercing look at Jozu, who shrugged. "Are you sure you really want to do that?"

"Don't tell me you're _scared_, Marco."

The First Division Commander's eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but aside from that, he didn't show any emotion to the taunt. He decided to give the younger man one last chance. "Is that really the best way to prove someone's drinking capacity? By seeing how much alcohol they can take before kneeling over?"

"C'mon, we're pirates. Even Pops drinks about two bottles of sake a day, and he's not exactly young. I'm sure you'll be able to handle at least a _few_ rounds…" coaxed Thatch, although his tone showed that he highly doubted it.

Marco gave a sleepy yawn and said mildly, "Well, if you're sure."

"Great!" said Thatch happily. He ran off into the galley. When he was out of earshot, Marco turned to the other two smirking men. "You two put him up to this." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Vista gave him a perfectly innocent look. "Well, Jozu and I need some beli to spend, and good old Thatch here was blabbing on and on about his drinking ability. It's only natural that we would try and make the best of it."

Marco sighed. "Do I even need to ask who you've betted on?"

"Nope," replied the two men simultaneously.

Just then, Thatch came back. "Hey! The contest is in the dining room!" By the time the four Division commanders arrived, the dining room was packed with pirates all surrounding a small table in the middle of the room with dozens of sake bottles set on top.

Marco gave an exasperated sigh. "Just how many people did you tell, Thatch?"

Thatch smirked in reply and gestured to the table. "Only one or two…or maybe everyone, I don't remember."

The two men sat down and watched as one of the pirates jumped onto a nearby table. "Welcome, everyone, to the drinking contest between two of our Commanders, Marco and Thatch!" The crowd roared. Marco looked around, amused to see that some pirates made signs bearing the name of the person they were supporting. He was less amused to find that Thatch had more supporters than he did.

"Get ready, gentlemen!" cried the announcer. Thatch immediately grabbed a bottle with a wicked glint in his eye. Marco calmly followed suit. "Starting Round One! Ready…set…GO!"

The two of them popped open their bottles and downed it with no effort. Thatch grinned and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That was refreshing." Marco merely gave him his trademark sleepy poker face.

Rounds Two to Four passed without much incident. By Round Five, Thatch seemed unable to hide his astonishment any longer. "So you're not a drinking novice…seems like Jozu lied." Marco shrugged and said nothing. He decided to wait for everything to pay out.

By Round Eight, Thatch seemed to be losing ground. His eyes were bloodshot and his words slurred, but he refused to back down. Marco, on the other hand, was enjoying himself. He effortlessly drained each bottle and listened to the nonsense that Thatch was sprouting with amusement.

"Round Eleven!" screamed the announcer. "Thatch looks like he's going to slip any moment! Is he going to last?"

"Are you sure you want to keep going?" asked Marco in an undertone while the announcer was shouting away. "We can stop, you know."

"N…no…" gasped a very drunk Thatch. "Keep…go...going…Jozu…said…"

"If you want," shrugged Marco, popping open his own bottle. Thatch raised a shaking hand to his bottle cap and attempted to pry it off with trembling fingers. Before Marco could help him open it, Thatch slumped over and fell out of his chair. The crowd screamed as one.

"And Thatch is down!" shouted the announcer. "After ten rounds, Marco is the winner!" Half the crowd cheered while the other half groaned. A rustling noise could be heard as notes of beli exchanged hands.

Vista and Jozu walked over to pick up the knocked out Thatch. "Well, I _did _say that it would be over quick… Remind the poor sucker to pay up when he's sober again," remarked Jozu.

Vista smirked. "That's going to take a while. He'll have one heck of a hangover in the morning. But in the meantime, I can make of list of things to do with ten thousand beli…"

Marco looked at them in mild surprise. "You both bet on me?"

Vista gave him a withering look. "Would we ever doubt you?"

Before Marco could reply, a voice interrupted the three of them. "A drinking contest?" asked the newcomer, grinning hugely. "I wanna join!"

"You're too late, Ace," said Vista, gesturing to the unconscious Thatch on the floor. "Thatch already lost."

"It's okay, Vista, he can take Thatch's spot," said Marco, surprising even himself. He was starting to like the game. After all, he hadn't drunk this much in a long time, not since that time Garp dropped by six years ago for a party.

Jozu eyed him doubtfully. "If you want, Marco…although I should warn you that Ace can really drink." Vista gave a nod in confirmation.

Marco smiled wryly. "So much for not doubting me…"

The crowd quickly caught on, and new signs were hurriedly made, this time bearing Ace's name. The pyromaniac grinned when he saw them. "We get cheerleaders, too?"

"I wouldn't go so far to calling them cheerleaders. They're not exactly pretty little girls in miniskirts."

The contest started again (Thatch laid forgotten on the ground), but this time it was much more exciting. At Round Ten, neither man seemed the slightest bit intoxicated. In fact, it seemed that they were rather enjoying themselves.

"Where did you learn to drink so much?" asked Marco, slightly surprised that the younger man could handle so much liquor.

"Ah, I've had plenty of experience when I was younger," replied Ace.

At Round Sixteen, the two men were still going strong. Then abruptly, during Round Eighteen, in the middle of an animated conversation about food with Marco, Ace's head thudded onto the table.

The whole room fell silent. A second later, snores reverberated throughout the room.

"It seems like Ace has forfeited the game, so the victory once again goes to Marco!" shouted the announcer over the laughter of the crowd.

"I wonder what caused him to fall asleep," wondered Marco with mild interest. "He was fine the whole time…"

Vista shrugged. "Maybe the sake got to him. But seriously, Marco, I knew you could drink, but this is ridiculous. What's the tally, about thirty bottles now?"

Marco smirked. Besides a pleasant burning sensation in his chest, the alcohol didn't have any other effect on him. "Somewhere around there. It's a nice past-time. I might play again soon and earn some cash myself."

Jozu and Vista hauled Ace and Thatch out of the room, congratulating each other on winning their bets. The rest of the crowd dispersed, many of them shooting incredulous looks at Marco. Whispers of "_How did he do that?_" floated around the room. Marco only smiled.

In the days that followed, it wasn't unusual to hear Thatch swearing loudly at Marco, Jozu, and Vista or complaining about his headache. Nor was it rare to see Ace challenging Marco to a rematch, which the phoenix politely declined. The rest of the Whitebeard Pirates gained newfound respect for their First Division Commander and mentally reminded themselves to never bet against Marco in a drinking contest (or to challenge him to one, either). All in all, it wasn't a bad form of entertainment.

That is, of course, until a week later-

"WHERE THE HELL DID MY BOOZE GO?"

Whitebeard was _not_ amused to hear where all his precious sake went.

**I love the Whitebeard Pirates! They're all a big happy family (with the exception of that effing Teach), and I could totally imagine this in my head. I feel bad for making Thatch such a poor drinker, but it was necessary. After all, we can't have **_**Marco**_** lose, now can we?**

**I based Ace's drinking ability on the fact that we saw him drinking sake since he was ten, and he might've started even earlier. And if anyone was wondering, the reason he fell asleep was not because the alcohol was affecting him, but because they were talking about food. I couldn't help but notice that Ace only fell asleep when he was eating, so I thought food might have something to do with his narcolepsy.**

**Please let me know what you think of this little piece of randomness!**

**EDIT 12/13 – Improved the general flow and fixed up minor OOC points.**


End file.
